


space man, take me by the hand,

by spellingbee



Series: Alien AU [3]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien/Human Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blanket Permission, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Intimacy, M/M, Podfic Welcome, kobra's an alien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21667618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellingbee/pseuds/spellingbee
Summary: Dante and Marco have been in a relationship for a couple of months now.Marco isn't quite who Dante thought he was, and that's more than okay.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Kobra Kid (Danger Days)
Series: Alien AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1527860
Comments: 14
Kudos: 35





	space man, take me by the hand,

**Author's Note:**

> Week 49!! ✌
> 
> BIG thank you to my friend pink ([pinkstationhero](https://pinkstationhero.tumblr.com/) on tumblr) and my fiance ace ([funkobraofficial](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) on tumblr) for beta-reading! 😄✨  
> there is also a piece of art used in this story, drawn by ace! if you're reading this with a screenreader or have any other trouble seeing the image, please note that the artwork is thoroughly described in the text itself! thank you ace for allowing me to use your art in my fic!! 💖
> 
> please enjoy the continued adventures of dante gallo and his Hot Alien Boyfriend™

Dante’s podcast may not be the most popular on the internet, but he definitely has a devoted following, however small it may be.

After each episode he posts, he gets a few dozen mentions on Twitter, usually for articles or other podcasts/videos dealing with the same topics he’d covered, or things they want him to talk about on his next episode, but sometimes there’s also memes or actual _artwork_ his listeners make for him. It’s pretty fuckin’ awesome, honestly, and even though his _favorite_ part of his podcast is doing deep research on different subjects and just talking about it for a half hour, he’d never deny that interacting with his listeners is pretty high on his list of favorite things.

That being said, Dante’s pretty excited to see the reaction to his newest episode. He’d finally been able to do another episode on aliens, and even though he wasn’t really able to use any knowledge from his boyfriend--it’d be pretty hard to back up his claims about Marco’s homeworld without giving away the fact that Marco is an alien--he’d still had everything he included in the podcast (eyewitness testimony about UFOs and abductions, mostly) thoroughly vetted by him. For a podcast dedicated to conspiracy theories and other mysteries, he’s pretty excited to put out something he _knows_ is completely true.

After uploading the episode and posting links on all relevant social media, he shuts his laptop and heads into the kitchen. He tries to get away for an hour or two after posting, so he won’t be constantly checking and rechecking for people’s responses to it.

In the kitchen, he finds said alien boyfriend standing by the counters, which are covered in takeout containers from probably fifteen or twenty restaurants around town. Marco’s scribbling frantically in a notebook, chewing.

“Find out anythin’ interestin’?” Dante asks, sitting down on one of the stools at the island.

Marco looks up, and Dante can see a noodle hanging from his mouth. He slurps it up before Dante can comment. “Yes,” he says, setting his notebook down. “I’ve come to the conclusion that there is a _much_ larger variety of noodle dishes than I had previously thought.”

“Told ya there were more than just _‘a dozen or so,’_ ” Dante says with a grin. “Pasta’s a staple’a like, prob’ly every culture on the planet. And _you_ didn’t believe me!”

Marco rolls his eyes, walking over and leaning down to press his forehead against Dante’s, and then shifting to press his lips against his. “You were right,” he says, clearly amused. “I apologize for doubting you. Really, though, it’s very interesting. Many cultures have noodle dishes, but even those types you would expect to repeat have unique qualities, influenced by availability of ingredients as well as personal taste.” He sits on the stool beside Dante, turning to face him. “My planet is very homogenous. Though there are some differing cultures depending on whether you live in the Northern or Southern hemisphere, much of it is the same for the whole planet. We do not have quite the variety of foods--or other things--that you have here on Earth.”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Dante asks with a grin. He kicks one foot out to hook it around Marco’s, tugging him a little closer. “An’ you’ve barely even _touched_ on all the different starches. Ya still got rice, potatoes, bread--”

“--I still have so many different types of _pasta,”_ Marco says with a groan, but Dante can tell he’s thrilled by the idea. “There is simply so _much_ to study! I don’t think I could ever cover it all in just one single lifetime.”

“Guess you’ll just have to live more than once,” Dante tells him. 

Marco hums a little, flicking his fingers in an _‘I suppose so’_ fashion. “I certainly will never run out of things to study,” he says, and lays his hand on Dante’s arm. “Which means I certainly will not be leaving earth anytime soon.” He’s looking at Dante with bright eyes, his lips quirked up just the tiniest bit. Dante’s heart flips at the sight, and he leans in and up, tugging Marco down to kiss his forehead.

“Good to hear,” Dante says with a grin.

\-----

Living with Marco is better than Dante had ever really imagined living with another person--living with someone besides your parents--could be. It’s even better now that they’re both on the same page about their relationship, and now that they’ve pretty much figured out what the other person likes best when it comes to physical displays of affection and that sort of thing.

Like, in the month or so since they _officially_ started dating--or courting, as Marco insists on calling it--Dante’s discovered that Marco really enjoys being touched and held--hugs, or spooning, or holding his hand--but he also won’t verbally _admit_ to enjoying it, and the few times Dante’s brought it up, Marco’s just blushed and looked away without acknowledging it. It’s kinda cute.

Dante’s been probably a little too excited about his new boyfriend, talking about him to all his friends--Lola and Kai, Gabe down on the second floor, his parents--and on his Twitter, too. He hasn’t mentioned Marco being an _alien,_ of course (except to Lola, but that’s _different)_ , but he’s still talked about how much he loves having such a cool and hot boyfriend. Some of his followers have even started to tease him about Marco.

He’d also briefly mentioned Marco on his newest podcast episode, thanking him for the help during the episode (without specifically mentioning why or what Marco’d done, of course).

All that being said, Dante’s not really all that surprised when he opens his laptop after a couple of hours and loads up Twitter to find that someone’s drawn something for him, and that “something” turns out to be a little doodle of Dante and his new boyfriend.

Dante laughs when he sees the picture. It’s a cartoony version of himself with a visibly shorter alien beside him. 

_“We all know the truth, Dante,”_ the caption reads. _“Some art for my favorite monster-and-alien-fucker-turned-podcast-extraordinaire!”_

Dante is drawn as exaggeratedly buff, with a wide chest and six-pack abs, while the alien “boyfriend” is designed like a typical gray alien, with a big round head and big eyes and long spindly limbs. The two are wearing matching shirts; Dante's reads _"Monster Fuck,"_ while the alien's reads _"Dante Fuck."_

__

“Hey, Marco!” Dante calls over his shoulder. “C’mere, come look at this art someone made!”

Marco appears a few seconds later, leaning over the back of the couch, his chin resting on Dante’s head. “What is it?” he asks. “What am I looking at?”

Dante points to the picture. “Someone thinks my boyfriend’s an alien,” he says, knowing he’s smirking. “So they drew a portrait of us.”

Marco’s quiet for a minute. “I don’t look like that at all,” he says, clearly bewildered.

Dante laughs. “I know!” he says between giggles. “Neither of us do! This is just what, like, the stereotypical alien looks like in art an’ stuff. ‘Course, if they knew what you _really_ looked like, it wouldn’t be as funny.”

“Why not?” Marco asks, sounding a little off. 

“Well, ‘cause you just look like a normal _guy,”_ Dante says, twisting his torso to look at Marco. “It wouldn’t be as, like, visually interesting, I guess.”

“I don’t look like a normal guy,” Marco says, still staring at the screen. “Not among your people, anyway.”

“Look, just because you’re hot as fuck doesn’t mean you’re not a normal guy,” Dante says, playfully rolling his eyes. “You’ve got two arms, two legs, and a head just like the rest of us.”

“Four arms,” Marco says absently, squinting at the screen.

Dante freezes. What the hell does _that_ mean? 

A moment or two later, Marco glances at him. “What?” he asks, confused. “Dante, what is wrong?”

“Marco,” Dante says slowly, “where the fuck are you hiding two extra arms?”

Marco looks down at himself, and then _he_ freezes, and looks back at Dante with wide eyes. “Um,” he says, visibly and audibly shaken by the question, which is weird because Marco _loves_ questions, “never mind, it is--it’s nothing, I misspoke.”

“Marco,” Dante says again. “Marco, do you or do you not have four arms?”

He fidgets, fingers flicking in a nervous rhythm. “I didn’t mean for you to find out,” he says. “I’m sorry for deceiving you, but we don’t have to acknowledge it. It doesn’t bother me much to remain in this form, so--”

“Marco.” Dante stands up, setting his laptop aside and facing Marco, with the couch between them. Marco’s watching him, with his shoulders hunched and his head lowered. He looks like he thinks Dante’s gonna _yell_ at him or something, which, _what the hell?_ Dante would _never,_ and he'd have thought Marco would _know_ that. “Marco. Is this not how you really look?”

He’s silent for a few moments longer. Then, “No,” he says, quietly. “This is not my true form.”

“Okay,” Dante says, trying to stay calm while he wraps his head around this. “Okay, so, what _do_ you look like? What’s your true form?”

“Not this,” Marco says. “You… it’s very different. You… you would not like it, not the way you like _this_ form.”

“Marco,” Dante says, “first of all, I love you, you _idiot._ I don’t care what you look like. The fact that you’re hot and an alien are just, like… well okay if you weren’t an alien _and_ you weren’t hot I dunno if we’d’a got into a relationship, at least as quick as we did, but I’m not, like, _with you_ because of your looks.”

Marco shuffles a bit from foot to foot, but his shoulders lower a bit, relaxing just a tiny bit. 

Dante continues, “And, also, in high school everyone called me _‘Bigfoot Fucker,’_ and I’ll let you figure out why.”

Marco blinks, and his eyes go distant as he checks his translator’s dictionary (which has improved _a lot_ in the past couple of months). “The… the hairy bipedal cryptid you speak about on your podcast sometimes?” His gaze refocuses on Dante. “I am afraid that I don’t look much like that, either.”

“Okay,” Dante says, and he walks around the couch to face Marco, who turns to look at him. “Okay, look. You said it doesn’t bother you _much_ to look like this, right?”

“Yes,” Marco says, and looks a little more relieved. “So it isn’t difficult for me to remain--”

“But it _does_ bother you,” Dante interrupts. “Marco, you’ve been here for _months._ Have you even--have you even, like, de-transformed or whatever in that time? Since you came here?”

“De-trans--? Oh.” Marco pauses, shakes his head. “No. I have remained in this form.”

“Okay. Shit. So, if you went back to your, like, original form, you’d feel better?”

“I would. Yes.” Marco sounds _miserable._ Why does he sound _miserable?!_

“Okay. Marco, fuck, I didn’t know--damn. You shoulda told me about this _months_ ago!” Dante takes Marco’s twitchy hands. “Look, Marco, I _promise_ that whatever you look like, I’ll still love you. Okay?”

Marco looks at Dante, holds eye contact for a long moment… and then he sighs, and nods. “Alright. But if my true form… _bothers_ you in any way, please let me know. I will refrain from changing into it around you again.”

“It won’t,” Dante says. _“You_ won’t. But okay, I’ll tell you.” Dante squeezes Marco’s hands and watches him expectantly.

Marco stares right back at him.

“...Are you gonna change, or what?” Dante asks after a few seconds.

“Yes,” Marco says. “But, well, I need you to back up. And I need to take my clothes off.”

“Why?” Dante asks, dropping Marco’s hands and backing up a step. Not that Dante would ever argue _against_ Marco taking his clothes off, but, well, he’s curious.

“My true form is… significantly… _larger_ than this form,” Marco says, pulling his red hoodie off and laying it carefully over the back of the couch.

Dante stares at Marco. Now, Marco’s already pretty tall, being nearly a full foot taller than Dante’s five-foot-even, but Marco… is _taller_ than _this?_ “Oh, _hell_ yeah,” Dante says. “The bigger the better.”

This startles a little laugh from Marco. “It’s,” he says, folding his T-shirt, “That. I don’t think that quite applies. To this.”

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” Dante tries to keep his tone light, so as not to give Marco _even more_ anxiety, but Dante’s honestly really goddamn… excited. And a little nervous, yeah, but mostly excited. Because, yeah, he’d been pretty pleased to have a hot alien boyfriend, even if said alien boyfriend didn’t _look_ like a space alien. But now he’s discovering that Marco actually fucking… _doesn’t look human?_

Fuck yeah. It’s like something out of every single one of Dante’s fantasies since fucking _middle school._

Marco’s jeans get placed on the couch too, and now he’s just standing there in his underwear. So apparently Marco’s not gonna be so big he, like, rips his underwear, or he’s just too nervous to stand there completely naked. That’s fine. Whatever makes him most comfortable, physically _and_ emotionally.

“Okay,” Marco says, letting out a breath. “Okay. Please, close your eyes. There is a bright flash of light with the release of this form, and I don’t--it may damage your retinas.”

Dante does so, though he really wants to see the transformation process, or whatever it is.

There's a quick flash, bright enough that he can see the red of the insides of his eyelids, and then nothing. He waits a long moment, and then asks, "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes," Marco says, and Dante doesn't know why he was expecting him to sound different, but he doesn't; he sounds just the same.

Dante opens his eyes. And stares.

There’s a giant blue alien towering over him.

He’s so tall that he’s _stooped over,_ the back of his head touching the ceiling and his knees bent. Or maybe that’s just how his knees are? 

“Marco,” Dante says. His mouth feels dry. “Holy shit, you--”

“I’m sorry,” Marco says, and his lips--wider than a humans, stretching across most of his broad face--don’t move in sync with his words. Like he’s saying something completely different, and Dante’s just _hearing_ English. “I can change back--I’m sorry, I know I’m much larger than most humans. And-- _different._ I’m sorry, I’ll change back.”

“No!” Dante shouts, louder than he means to, stretching out a hand toward Marco but not quite touching him. Marco freezes, staring at him, and Dante realizes that _holy shit,_ he has _two pupils_ in each eye, dark shapes set one above the other. “Holy shit,” he whispers, not wanting to tear his eyes away. 

“Dante,” Marco says. _“Please._ It’s fine, I’ll just--”

“What the hell,” Dante asks, stepping forward and reaching out to take one of Marco’s hands without looking away from his eyes (Marco’s hands have always been bigger than Dante’s, with long fingers and a long palm, but now they practically swallow up Dante’s, and they feel wider, _rougher)_ , “would make you think that this, that _you,_ scared me? Or weirded me out? Or _whatever_ you’re thinkin'?”

“I,” says Marco, and he stops. He blinks, blue eyelids sliding over lighter, dual-pupiled eyes. “I don’t understand. Why _wouldn’t_ you be… _‘weirded out?’_ I look completely different. Not human.”

“Are you weirded out by how _I_ look?” Dante asks.

Marco shakes his head slowly. “You’re Dante,” he says. “But I--you looked the same as you do now when I met you. This is--”

“This,” Dante says, squeezing Marco’s hand, “is awesome as _hell._ Marco. You’re an _alien.”_

“You already knew I was an alien,” he says, his mouth still moving completely out of sync with his words. “We met on a _spaceship.”_

“Yeah,” Dante says, “but this is _different._ Marco. You’re hot as _fuck!”_

Marco continues staring at him. He blinks again. And then his cheeks turn _purple._ Purple! Holy shit! It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s blushing. 

“Oh my god,” Dante says, sucking in a breath. “Holy shit, that’s so _cool!”_

Marco clears his throat. “So, you… you don’t mind my… appearance?”

“Look, Marco. I thought you were hot before, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Well, now you’re, like, infinitely hotter. Holy shit.”

Marco’s blush deepens, his cheeks turning a bright purple. “Oh,” he says. He reaches one hand up to scratch at the back of his head, and Dante follows the movement with his eyes, and--hang on a second.

Dante’s holding Marco’s left hand.

So why is Marco scratching his head with _his left hand?_

Dante looks down. He looks back up. He looks to the right.

_One, two… three… four._

“Oh my _god!”_ Dante exclaims, his gaze shooting back up to Marco’s. “Marco, holy fuck, you seriously _do_ have _four arms!”_

“Oh.” Marco glances down at the hand clutched in Dante’s. “I. Yes. Yes, I do. Is that… okay?”

“Marco. That’s fuckin’ _cool_ as _fuck!_ Do you know what you can do with _four arms?!”_ Dante’s heart feels like it’s gonna beat out of his goddamn chest, he’s so excited.

“Yes. I’ve had four arms my entire life. Except for these past few months, but. Well.”

“Holy shit.” Dante’s trying to wrap his head around this, but he can’t quite do it. “Holy _shit!”_ He can’t believe his _luck!_

Marco crouches down a little, and Dante realizes that it’s probably pretty uncomfortable for him to be standing in here. He’s just so _tall!_ And the ceilings in the apartment aren’t really that high, anyway--Dante’s never measured them, but they’re maybe seven feet up? Which means Marco’s probably, like… eight feet tall?

Holy _shit!_

“You need to sit down,” Dante says, taking a step back and tugging on Marco’s hand. “And I wanna take a closer look at you.”

“Oh,” says Marco, and he still looks nervous, but he follows Dante, crouching low to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling.

Dante tugs him into their bedroom, and Marco ducks his head to fit through the doorframe. “Does it feel better to be _yourself_ again?” he asks. “Even though it’s gotta be pretty cramped in here.”

“Yes,” Marco says. “It’s a bit cramped in here, but I felt… _more_ cramped in the human form.”

“You shoulda told me sooner,” Dante says. He grabs both of Marco’s hands--both of his _front_ hands, he guesses, because the other arms seem to be facing the other direction? Dante’s not quite sure. Fuck, he wants to _know._ He wants to _see._

“I’m sorry,” Marco says. “But I… I really didn’t think you would like me. Like how I looked.”

“Oh, trust me,” Dante says, practically salivating, “I _definitely_ like. Now sit down, dumbass!”

Marco does so, perching himself on the edge of the bed. He’s so tall that, while in his human form he would be just about eye level with Dante like this, in _this_ form the top of his head is still nearly touching the ceiling. _Damn._

Dante looks Marco over again. His skin isn’t a single solid shade of blue, but several. Parts of his body--his stomach and chest, inner thighs, his neck and his forehead, most notably--are a very pale blue, fading into a deeper, brighter blue in other areas. Marco doesn’t have any hair, as far as Dante can tell; just smooth skin. 

He steps forward, stepping right in between Marco’s knees. Marco’s breath hitches, watching him. Dante smiles at him, leans in close. “You’re fuckin’ _amazing,”_ he says. He lifts a hand, reaches toward Marco’s chest--and pauses. “Can I touch you?” he asks, because he knows Marco’s _usually_ fine with him touching him, but this whole situation is so _different._ It doesn’t matter how much Dante wants to touch him. He’s gotta make sure Marco’s okay with it, make sure he’s not too nervous, too freaked out by this whole thing.

Marco nods slowly. “You… yes.” He lifts one hand up and catches Dante’s own hand, slowly brings it up and presses it against his forehead. It reminds him of the gesture Dante used to use to greet his grandfather, _mano;_ a gesture of respect. He wonders if it means something similar in Marco's culture. He fans his fingers out against the pale skin of Marco's forehead. It’s smooth, soft. Pliant. 

Marco releases his hand and leans back on--holy _shit,_ Dante doesn’t think he’s _ever_ gonna get used to that--and leans back on his other two arms.

Dante runs his fingers over Marco’s forehead, watching him; Marco closes his eyes, seeming to relax. “Is this why forehead-presses are a _thing_ for you?” he asks.

Marco opens his eyes again and flicks his fingers in affirmation. “Our foreheads are… sensitive. To temperature and pressure. It’s just… a nice feeling.” He closes his eyes again, bringing one hand up to rest against Dante’s waist.

Dante moves closer, his pelvis pressed into the V of Marco’s legs, and he carefully leans up, stretching up on his toes to kiss Marco’s forehead.

Marco sighs, a content sound. Dante smiles against his forehead, then pulls back to find him looking at him again, his own lips stretched even farther across his face. “So,” he says, holding Dante carefully in his huge hands, “this doesn’t… _I_ don’t bother you?”

“Abso-fuckin’- _lutely_ not.” Dante presses a kiss to Marco’s lips, which… doesn’t work quite as well as kissing him in his human form, but it still sends a thrill through him. “How come your mouth doesn’t move like you’re actually sayin’ what you’re sayin’ anymore?” he asks, reaching out to run his fingers along Marco’s lips.

“The translator,” Marco murmurs, lips barely moving. “The human form syncs up with the translator, so that I look as though I am truly speaking your language; but when I am in my true form, it only translates what I am saying. I am not speaking English; I am speaking my own language.”

Dante hums in acknowledgement, peering closer at Marco’s mouth. “Holy _shit,”_ he says. “Marco, your _teeth._ They’re _sharp!”_

“Yes,” Marco says, and he doesn’t sound quite as nervous now. “Would you like to see?”

“Fuck yeah.” Dante pulls his hand away from Marco’s mouth so he can open up. His mouth opens wide, and he looks almost frog-like, until Dante sees the sharp teeth behind his lips.

“Holy _shit,”_ he says, for probably the twentieth time. He kinda wants to stick his hand in his boyfriend’s mouth to feel how sharp they are, but somehow he doesn’t think Marco’d be up for that right now. 

The inside of his mouth is a mixture of blues and purples, his tongue a deep purple that otherwise looks like a normal human tongue. After a few moments, Marco closes his mouth, pulling back slightly. “My people are descended from predators,” he says. 

“I can see that.” Dante reaches back up to take Marco’s face in his hands, cupping the sides of his head and running his thumbs lightly against the corners of his mouth. The skin on the back of his head is rougher than on the front, and--Dante gently turns Marco’s head to the side to see--a much darker blue, almost black. “So fuckin’ cool,” he whispers, more to himself than to Marco.

Dante can feel Marco’s lips twitch under his thumbs. He loosens his hold on Marco’s head and meets his eyes again. Marco’s expressions are harder to read with this new face, but Dante’s still pretty sure he’s smiling softly. 

“Do you think so?” Marco asks, and Dante nods. 

“You know I wanna know everything about aliens that I can. I just like knowin’ that kinda thing. But, like. It’s _you._ _You’re_ the alien. So it’s even _better.”_ Dante stares into Marco’s eyes. “How can you see with two pupils? Like, is it hard? Too bright?”

Marco shifts, putting his weight on only one of his back arms and lifting the other to make a gesture Dante hasn’t seen before--and only then does he notice that the hands of Marco’s second pair of arms have _webbed fingers._ “It’s a little too bright,” he says. “But not too bad. Each pupil is adapted to different things. The top pupil is for seeing in the air. The bottom is for seeing underwater.”

“Holy shit,” Dante says. “That’s so _cool._ ” He leans to one side, pressing his chest against Marco’s torso as he reaches out to grasp the gesturing hand. “You’ve got _webbed fingers._ And, fuck. _Four arms,_ Marco!”

Marco lets him tug the arm forward, lifting his front arm so that the back arm can move forward unimpeded. “My planet is very wet,” he says, which is, of course, information Dante already knew. “My people evolved to complete tasks underwater. Our dorsal arms are mostly used for swimming, leaving our ventral arms free for whatever needs doing.”

Dante nods, carefully examining Marco’s hand. It’s the same blue as most of his skin, with lighter blue skin stretched between each digit. Five digits, like a human, but no opposable thumb; just smaller fingers more akin to pinkies than anything else on either side of the hand. 

He lifts Marco’s front hand up to compare the two. This one looks more like a human hand, with four fingers and a thumb. The webbed hand is smaller, and structured differently--more like a sturdy fin on the end of an arm than an actual hand. “How flexible are these?” he asks, gently running the pad of his thumb over the webbing. “Like, can you pick things up? Can you grip things?”

“Not as well as with this one.” Marco flexes the fingers of his more human-like hand, wrapping them around Dante’s hand. Then he releases him and does the same with the webbed hand; the webbed hand is clearly at a disadvantage in this case.

“Wow,” Dante whispers, still thinking of all the possibilities of _four arms,_ even if two of them are a little different than what he’s used to. “Marco, you’re _amazing.”_

He retracts both hands, bracing himself again on the back arm and dropping the front hand into his lap. “I’m no more amazing than any other member of my species.”

He sounds put out, or maybe just disappointed. Dante doesn’t know, but he definitely doesn’t like it. He reaches up and softly takes Marco’s face in both hands again, lifting slightly until Marco meets his eyes again. Dante’s gaze flicks between his pupils for a moment before settling on Marco's upper pupils. “You’re amazing,” he says again, sternly. “You’re amazing because you’re _you._ Not _just_ ‘cause you’re an alien.”

“I don’t know what to say to that,” Marco says, leaning into Dante’s hand. “I feel… conflicted.”

“How?” Dante strokes his thumbs over the bright blue of Marco’s cheeks, not dropping his gaze.

“I…” Marco pauses, clearly thinking. “I thought you would be… put off by my appearance,” he says after a moment. “But now I think you may be… _too_ interested in my appearance. If you had met any other member of my crew on the ship, perhaps...”

Dante snorts, not in a mean way--just to show Marco that he disagrees. “Look,” he says. “I am _very_ into how you look. But I was _already_ very into how you look, and if _that_ was your actual form and I met some other alien who looked like _this--”_ Dante pulls one hand away to gesture at Marco, “--I wouldn’t, like, _leave_ you just ‘cause the other alien looked _like an alien_ and you _didn’t.”_

Marco watches him, eyes searching, and then he sags a little, nuzzling his face into Dante’s palm. “Thank you,” he says. “I hadn’t realized how… _insecure_ I was about all of this until… well. Until now.”

Dante beams at him. “Then are ya feelin’ better?” 

“Yes.” Marco blinks at him, tilts his head away from Dante’s hand, then reaches out with one of his hands and puts it on Dante’s waist again. “I love you.”

The phrase makes Dante feel all warm and fuzzy. It’s not the first time either of them have said it to each other, of course, but it never ceases to make Dante feel like he’s gonna _melt._ “Yeah,” he says. “Me, too.” He moves his hand from Marco’s cheek to his throat, where the skin is a paler blue. He runs one finger lightly across his neck, careful not to press too hard and _definitely_ taking note of the way Marco shivers. “Are the lighter patches of skin more sensitive than others?” he asks.

“Yes.” Marco’s still watching him, but now his hand tightens on Dante’s hip, and he pulls him closer, until Dante’s torso is pressed right up against his. Hell _yeah._ This is exactly where Dante wants to be right now.

He leans in and presses a kiss to Marco’s neck, grinning to himself when Marco lets out a little gasp. Okay, yeah. He’s gonna have a _lot_ of fun figuring out what makes his boyfriend tick. 

But first….

Dante stretches up, tugging Marco’s head down again so that he can press another kiss to Marco’s forehead, and then presses his own forehead against the pale, sensitive skin there.

Marco chuckles, leaning forward and wrapping all four-- _all four!-_ -arms around him. “You’re amazing,” he says to Dante. "I hope you know that."

"Yeah, that's not exactly a secret," Dante teases, pressing his face into the crook of Marco's neck. Oh, yeah. He could _definitely_ get used to this. "Think I might be the luckiest fucker on the planet."

Marco presses the palm of one finned hand against Dante's cheek, shifting his face toward Marco's own. "I think I am, actually." He presses his wide mouth against Dante's lips, and Dante grips his shoulders tight.

"Feelin' better, then?" he asks again, smiling against Marco's mouth.

"Much," Marco says, a little breathlessly. He holds Dante tighter, two hands moving lower, and Dante kisses him again.

\-----

Dante retweets the fanart of himself and Marco. _"DAMN,"_ he writes. _"HOW DID YOU GET THIS 100% REAL PHOTO OF ME AND MY DEFINITELY ALIEN BOYFRIEND??"_

"It doesn't look anything like me!" Marco says for the twelfth time, from where he's draped across the too-small couch. "If they're not going to draw me as a human, they should take care not to fall into stereotypes like that."

"I'm no stranger to shitty stereotypes," Dante says from the floor, looking through his twitter mentions, "but to be fair, most of these people don't even think aliens _exist._ Here on earth, at least."

Marco waves one hand through the air. "That's no excuse! Well, I suppose it is. Most people are careful not to reveal themselves to humans."

"Wonder how many aliens actually live on earth," Dante says. "I mean, if they've all got tech like yours, it'd be impossible to tell, wouldn't it?"

"Most likely," Marco says, stretching one arm over to rest on Dante's shoulder. "The Central Government doesn't allow anyone to settle on earth, or any other planets they deem too underdeveloped for contact. I'm only allowed here because I'm studying it, of course; but that doesn't mean there aren't other people here. Criminals. Pirates."

"Are there alien pirates?!" Dante asks, swinging his head around toward Marco. "Like, _space_ pirates?!"

Marco blinks. "Well, yes," he says. "You don't think we're all lawful, do you? I'm literally breaking the law _right now._ Several laws, in fact."

"Yeah, yeah, _'no letting humans know aliens exist,' 'no romantic relationships with humans,'_ whatever." Dante flaps one hand dismissively at him. "But like, _pirates?!_ That's so cool!"

Marco clicks his teeth together, seeming amused. "Oh, I see. My breaking interstellar law is _boring_ in comparison with _space pirates."_ He pauses. "Anyway, yes. My sibling is a pirate, in fact."

As if Marco hasn't blown Dante's mind _enough_ today. _"What?!"_ he screeches, jumping to his feet and just barely avoiding sending his laptop flying. "Your _sibling_ is a pirate?!"

"Yes." Marco clicks his teeth again, reaching out and grabbing Dante, pulling him over to the sofa. "It was the easiest way for them to get off-planet and away from our parents. I think they really enjoy the lifestyle, though."

Dante settles himself against Marco, leaning his head against Marco's arm. "A pirate and a scientist. Huh. Do you ever get to talk to 'em? What's their name?"

"Their name is Stef." Marco pauses. "That isn't true, by the way. It's a randomly-generated name my translator created. And no, we don't talk often. I work for the Central Government; it would be far too easy for our calls to be traced, and for my sibling to be arrested. We exchange short encrypted messages occasionally. They were _very_ interested to hear I'd settled on earth." Marco rubs one hand over Dante's shoulder. "And more than a little concerned when they learned that I had settled with a _human."_

Dante snorts. "They're a _space pirate._ They don't really have the right to be _concerned."_

"They were concerned," Marco says, "but not _surprised."_ He flicks his fingers beside Dante's ear. "Which I find strange, and maybe even _rude. I_ was surprised to find that I _wanted_ to settle with a human."

"Should I be offended?" Dante asks, only half-teasing, turning to face Marco.

Marco's watching him, and his wide mouth stretches further, revealing sharp teeth. Dante's heart skips a beat. "No," Marco says. "You're worth all the confusion and risk that comes with this sort of life." 

He leans down, cupping Dante's cheek in one webbed hand, and presses his forehead against Dante's own, then shifts to press his mouth against Dante's.

And Dante can't help but agree.

**Author's Note:**

> big big BIG thank you to [my fiance](https://funkobraofficial.tumblr.com/) for helping me design marco's alien form! i based a lot of his features on amphibians and fish, though he is technically neither. turns out i VERY MUCH enjoy designing alien anatomy and figuring out evolutionary reasons for all the weird design elements lmao!! 💙  
> EDIT: [check out ace's design for marco here! him BIG!!!](https://enby-jetstar.tumblr.com/post/189572267321/part-3-of-the-funkobra-alien-au-is-up-dante-and)
> 
> thanks for reading!! if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment. i'd love to hear your thoughts! 💖  
> and come stop by my tumblr! i talk about bands and about the fics i'm working on. [enby-partypoison](https://enby-partypoison.tumblr.com/)


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